Dear Journal
by nancy fan
Summary: Will Schuester must be destroyed at all costs.


**This is my first Sue fic, so be kind:) Enjoy!**

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**Dear Journal,**

**Today was a disaster of Chernoybl proportions.**

**_Will Schuester_. Even writing his name, fills me with an almost irresistible urge to order those cyanide capsules off ebay. A single capsule in his morning coffee would deal with the abomination that is Will Schuester. It would be an act of humanity; the world a better place without the potential threat of his vile hair entering the gene pool.**

**Besides, this is all his fault. Will Schuester and his hippy rantings about the benefits a teacher exchange brings to a school and now, I, Sue Sylvester have to trade places with a kindergarten teacher for a week.**

**It's unthinkable. Unspeakable. Impossible. Small children are to Sue Sylvester what white leggings are to fat women. They are to be avoided and obliterated at all costs.**

Taking an angry sip from her extra protein shake (it was apparently the addition of the cockroaches that did it), Sue's eyes narrowed in disgust seeing the kindergarten teacher's name printed neatly on the top of the page.

_Ms. Jolly._

Even her name was annoying but lets see how jolly the woman was going to be after the Cheerios were through with her. (Sue didn't trust other human beings to work with her precious Cheerios and Santana had been entrusted with a toxic snake venom concoction in the event of such an occurrence. Python venom is especially potent and has been known to burn through the human liver in under thirty minutes.) A liver transplant and three months of recuperation would deal with Ms. Jolly.

Will Schuester, however, was another matter. He didn't deserve the pain relief that Sue Sylvester knew, the hospital legally would have to provide. She'd have to deal with him herself. Crunching thoughtfully on the feeler of a cockroach, Sue made a mental note to use one of her many contacts in the Russian Mafia. They'd been very useful in dealing with the Cheerio's main rivals at Nationals last year. (Apparently, the team been involved in some horror bus crash on route to the competition. Sue hadn't cared much to learn the exact details. She had been far too busy at the time, trying to coordinate the tracksuit she was going to wear for prize giving with the ribbon on the six-foot high trophy.)

Pulling open the drawer in her desk, Sue plucked out a jewel encrusted kukri knife and started sharpening the razor-sharp blade furiously. Tending to her beloved knife collection was always something of a comfort to Sue. Watching the light glint on the blade of the knife, her eyes narrowed threateningly seeing Will Schuester knock forcibly on the door before barging into her office.

"Sue, you know weapons are prohibited at school. It sets a bad example for the kids,"

"I don't care much for rules, William. Never have," Sue drawled, withdrawing a ninja star from her desk for added measure and gloating inwardly as Schuester spluttered in absolute indignation. "Now, what do you want and be quick about it. I have Oprah's agent on the phone. Apparently, she's doing a show on the heroes working in the American education system today and my name just happened to pop up,"

"You know damn well why I'm here, Sue." William hissed, his teeth bared in an act that made him resemble a particularly yappy little dog. "I've been suspended from my teaching position while the board investigates allegations that apparently _you_ made. What's this all about?"

"Well William, as you know, my Venus Fly Trap was beheaded at the weekend and both I and Lima's fine team of police officers believe it to be the handiwork of a certain Will Schuester," Sue snarled, imbued with massive amounts of self-satisfaction at the look of exasperation on his pathetic face. "Your fingerprints were found at the scene of the crime, so there's no point denying it. It's an open and shut case,"

"I work here, Sue and I'm in your office all the time." (His fingers made a grotesque scene as he dragged them through his head of hideous curls and it was a supreme effort on Sue's part not to throw up.) "Didn't you and your team of crack detectives ever think of that?"

Sue sighed (fake) sympathetically at that; empathy being an emotion she was completely unable to express. "It's not me you have to convince, William. It's the school board and right now, they're pressing for your resignation,"

"My resignation. But what will happen to Glee club?"

The sheer horror in his eyes was a triumph.

"It will be disbanded, William and the funding redistributed to more worthy programs,"

"Like the Cheerios?" Will cut in angrily, his jaw clenched and Sue was happy to see that she hadn't completely broken his spirit, yet. As her three gold medals for javelin catching testified, Sue had always enjoyed a challenge.

"Well as a matter of fact, William, yes," Sue replied, pushing her glasses down onto the bridge of her nose and sliding a glossy catalogue across the desk over to him. "I've already put in an order for one of those hightech tanning beds for the Cheerio's locker room. Pasty Cheerios don't win Nationals,"

"This isn't over, Sue. I'm going to fight this all the way, if I have to,"

"You do that, William," Sue shot back as she rested back in the chair, her arms folded menacingly behind her head. "In the meantime, while your little Glee kids return to their pathetic lives of mediocrity and obscurity, my Cheerios are going all the way to Nationals. Tanned and glorious."

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The kindergarten classroom was a sickly shade of pink, which in Sue's opinion was a brave choice of color. If Sue had been forced to teach these little brutes everyday, she would have insisted on the room being painted black, to see as little of their faces as was humanly possible.

Worse than the unbearably bright classroom walls, were the jumble of Barbie dolls and teddy bears stacked on shelves at the back of the room. _Toys_. What in the hell would these children want with toys? Next, they'd expect to be allowed to play with them.

Sue's hatred of small children was almost as powerful as her utter repulsion for Will Schuester's hair. Sue didn't like things that were small; small trophies being a particular bugbear of hers. They were irritating, a nuisance, hardly worth the time. Sue tended to bundle any trophies under three foot into the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. In Sue's opinion, children should be dealt with in a similar fashion, perhaps corralled in some designated land way outside Lima, until they were old enough to be tolerable. Sue had even done a Sue's Corner on the proposal but it hadn't been met with the enthusiasm, she would have liked. There had even been some death threats but Sue didn't care to dwell for too long on that. A world without Sue Sylvester would be unimaginable.

"You, the girl with the disgusting pigtails," Sue roared into her bullhorn, her finger pointing menacingly at a small girl with blonde tufts of hair sprouting from either side of her gear. "What is your name?"

"Chloe," she offered back with a meekness that satisfied Sue that the child was already aware of the almighty presence that was Sue Sylvester. The child did look a little apprehensively though, at the bullhorn still raised to her lips. Maybe that ridiculous Jolly woman doesn't employ a bullhorn in her everyday teaching, Sue mused thoughtfully as she glared daggers at the little girl. It was an unusual concept and to Sue, just a further reminder of Ms. Jolly's failings as an educator.

"Well Chloe, to be quite frank, I don't care much for your name. It reminds me somewhat of the French hooker my father used to like entertaining during the months my mother was Nazi hunting in Brazil. You know, if I was teaching you for longer than a week, I'd have to insist you change your name. Maybe I still will,"

"Now, what the hell does Ms. Jolly do with you lot every morning?" Sue bellowed to no child in particular, her bullhorn adjusted to produce the loudest noise possible.

"We play," Chloe answered, her blue eyes staring mistrustfully at her new teacher. "And then we do show and tell and Ms. Jolly listens to all of our news,"

_Of course she does_, Sue thinks with scornful sigh as she watches a couple of the braver children, eye the toys hopefully.

"Well, things are going to change around here, kids," Sue roared with extra vigor into the bullhorn. There was no point after all, pretending that she was going to be nice to them.

"Ms. Sylvester, I need to go the bathroom," a small boy piped up from the back of the classroom before Sue silenced him with a steely glare.

_No wonder kids are so weak these days._ They are bred that way, with their disgustingly indulgent parents and their bathroom breaks. One of these kids must have gone to the bathroom at least three time already and it wasn't even nine o' clock. This would never have happened under my watch, Sue mused with a certain smugness, her eyes roving icily over every member of the class. Bathroom breaks would now be reduced to one a week maximum with the long term goal of abolishing them completely.

"Okay kids, listen up," Sue yelled, banging her specially bought hammer against the chalkboard for extra effect. "I want you all to write me a ten-thousand word paper on the merits of cheerleading in our society today,"

_That should keep them busy for an hour or so, _Sue thought in satisfaction, starting to plot out a rough sketch of the area around Schuester's apartment block and deliberating on the best spot to release the cage of rats she'd acquired.

Hearing a hushed murmur of voices from the back of the room, Sue whipped her head up menacingly from her BEP (book of evil plans).

"Why aren't those chubby little fingers of yours writing me something?" Sue demanded in an outraged tone, pushing back her chair with force and thundering angrily through the classroom.

"Ms. Sylvester, we can't write yet," another small being chirped unwittingly. "Ms. Jolly said we are going to learn to write clever cat next week but now we are just practicing patterns in our book,"

"You're pathetic," Sue snarled, picking up one of their ridiculously small chairs and throwing it across the classroom.

If they haven't learned to read and write by now, they were never going to learn, Sue concluded despairingly, revolted at the sight of the little faces in front of her. Better they be doing something useful with their time.

Her anger slowly subsiding, Sue's mind began to formulate over the bare beginnings of a plan.

Today, Sue would give the children their bathroom breaks and maybe, even let them eat. Lure them into a false sense of security.

But tomorrow, things would change. The stupid little toys would be thrown in the dumpster and the photograph of Will Schuester that Sue used as a dartboard at home, pinned to the wall.

William Schuester had proved to be far more difficult than expected to crush and Sue could do with the backup of her own personal army. (Like in Harry Potter, except Sue's Voldemort was a man with a ridiculously oversized chin who liked to believe he could sing.)

Days one and two would focus solely on William's hair. (Sue would like to spend an entire week schooling the children on the failings of Schuester's hair but remembers that she also has to teach the kids the basics of taking down a glee club.)

By day three, Sue would expect the children to be able to demonstrate a clear example of how they would thwart New Directions in their pathetic attempts to win Regionals.

By day four, the children will be familiar with at least twelve separate insults to use about Will Schuester's hair. The more academically advanced kids could also be pushed to incorporate some jibes about Schuester's devotion to the useless and the pathetic. Glee club was a prime example. Emma Pillsbury another.

Mini tracksuits would be distributed on the Friday and Sue's training would be complete.

Whoever said the public sector were inefficient?


End file.
